Eliot Spitzer slept with hookers. Jim and Dina McGreevey had threesomes with their driver. Governor David Paterson's list of conquests is starting to look like it could be longer than Wilt Chamberlain's. And then there's Ed Koch.

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Well, the Post really dropped the ball on the whole David Paterson affair story (their version of the tale was devoid of quotes from the new governor, and filled with the line "the Post has learned" without the polite "from the Daily News" after it), but man, are they on top of the McGreevey threesome story. "IT WAS 3-MENDOUS" blares their headline. (All the News could come up with was "McOrgy." Lame.) Andrea Peyser called the series of trysts between Jim McGreevey, Dina Matos McGreevey, and limo driver Teddy Pedersen as "T.G.I. Friday's Three-For All." Shrieks Peyser:

The couple frequently enjoyed dinner a trois, before retiring to lick leftover spicy Buffalo wing sauce and chive-immersed sour cream from Pedersen's body. Lord knows what they did with the fried mozzarella sticks.

Come on, Andrea — you know exactly what they did with them. If you didn't have such a vivid imagination for the tawdry and disgusting, you'd be out slicing oranges in Prospect Park with the rest of the soccer moms. Anyway, the best part of today's updates on the McNage à trois was that the former governor was quick to confirm the sexual encounters, just as his estranged wife immediately denied them. The problem with having sex with more than one person at a time, you see, is that suddenly it's not your word against his. It's your word against his and the cute limo driver's*. And that, like most situations involving sex and mozzarella sticks, is an uncomfortable situation in which to find yourself.
Matos McGreevey denies threesomes; Jim McGreevey confirms aide's account [NYDN]
MCG: IT WAS 3-MENDOUS SEX [NYP]
*Did anyone else notice that Ted Pedersen is 29 now, which means that he was 20ish when these affairs took place before 2001. Wow. Go-Go Gadget McGreeveys!

At first we were grateful for the Eliot Spitzer prostitute scandal — it provided a much-needed beak from the endless horror that has been the Democratic-primary campaign. But now, less than a week after it broke, we're suffering from Spitzer fatigue. Isn't there anything else tawdry and embarrassing to talk about? We've sort of burnt out all of our nerve endings regarding Spitzer. It's like Britney Spears — we're all out of sorry. Lo and behold, yesterday we learned that there is something more tawdry and embarrassing than a married governor using hookers: a married governor having threesomes with his wife and male limo driver. Combined with the added bonus that the wife, despite having seen him frolicking in bed with another man, says she is shocked to learn that he's gay. (Lady, regardless of whether there was another penis in the room, straight men do not "frolic," mmkay?) And thus, Jim McGreevey, Dina Matos McGreevey, and hunky driver Teddy Pedersen have relieved us from our Spitzer doldrums.

Exclusively in our imaginations, that is. We're not sure whether Hillary Clinton, in the past 48 hours, has called Silda Wall Spitzer. But it's not out of the realm of possibility. Clinton is close with the Spitzers, and she did call Dina Matos McGreevey after her ordeal with the whole "My husband's a gay governor" thing to give counsel. So we're just going to assume that she did for a moment (we're not sure you'll ever hear the real story confirmed by her press people anyway — they likely don't want to remind everyone that Hillary for a long time was best known for standing by a philandering husband). We'll never know for sure what might have gone on in such a conversation (until, of course, Silda gives up on Eliot and gets her $3 million book deal), but we do have an idea. Thus, we have constructed for your reading pleasure an imaginary phone conversation between Hillary Clinton and Silda Wall Spitzer:
[A phone rings somewhere in the Spitzer apartment on the Upper East Side. Silda is holed up in the bedroom, reading a copy of Honor Thyself, Danielle Steel's latest best-seller. She does not get up — the thing has been ringing off the hook, and it's always for him. Usually these insistent calls come late at night, after she's thankfully taken a Klonopin and drifted off to sleep. On the other side of the apartment, Eliot is surrounded by advisers in the children's playroom. He is seated precariously on a Playmobil tea table. He picks up the phone.]
Eliot: If this is anyone but the Daily Princetonian, I have no comment, okay?
Hillary: Hello, Eliot.
Eliot: Kristen? Is it you? I've been trying—
Hillary: NO, it's not KRISTEN. God, they always have white-trash names, don't they?
Eliot: Mom?

• The fallout from Sunday's Puerto Rican Day parade included 208 arrests, a huge increase from last year's 50 or so. The police insist all but ten of the arrested were "gang members." [NYT]
• First Connecticut was on the brink of legalizing medical marijuana; now New York is, too. The legislation may be heading for the governor's desk within ten days, and Spitzer, who earlier opposed the idea, now says he's open to it. [NYDN]
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